Hear Us Roar
by DrinkingAlcoholicRainbows
Summary: Growl. Step back. Open wide. Roar. Lion, aren't you? Are you brave enough? Strong enough? Are you Gryffindor enough? :: Three lions, who aren't credited enough for being exactly that.


_[There were lots of types of bravery, and each and every one of the Gryffindors embodied all of them.]_

* * *

**Neville Longbottom** _{not gonna break; not anymore}_

He accepted it, probably even embraced the fact he didn't belong. But he tried, _oh, he tried_, to try and change that one little fact that was eating him up just because it makes him question if anyone ever really accepted him inside.

_What if it's all an act?_

People called him a crybaby, but he's not. He was just questioning; because he wonders. He wonders and asks and he never really got an answer and he cries to himself because he always expects the worst to happen to him; **Neville Longbottom**, who was never really special.

He's gone.

He cried every night to himself because Harry's gone. Dumbledore's gone. And he doesn't have anyone left. No one. No one to comfort him, or to say things that make him feel better, and make him actually believe he can fly to the stars just because he **believed** he could. No one was there. Not anymore. He cried to himself because he's still broken, and now no one's there to fix him up.

He's going to start it up again.

He shouts and he orders, he learns to laugh again and he feels like a leader; a _true_ **leader**. And he feels just so alive and happy and he's feels just so damn _free_ even when they're far from it. He going to start it all up again; the rebels, the talking back, the _not taking it down without a fight_ attitude, he going to start it all back up again. And this time, he's going to lead it.

He's changed.

_What happened to crybaby Longbottom, eh?_ He used to cry and whimper and he used to be a total wimp. _What happened to him?_ They ask,_ He's changed a whole lot. What happened?_

_Maybe it was the war_, some assume.

_Maybe it was the rebel in him_, others say.

_Maybe it was the influence_, several suppose.

But he knows. He and the others know for sure. Him and Dumbledore's Army. Him and the other Gryffindors. Him and his parents, somewhere in their subconscious. They know. He knows.

It was the golden Gryffindor Lion that fiercely roared in his heart, prowling around in the shadows after all this time.

He is a Gryffindor. He was _**the weak cub**_ and is _**the strong lion**_. He is **Neville Longbottom**,_ hear him roar_.

_{I'm gonna show them.}_

* * *

**Peter Pettigrew **_{I'm wrong and I know it}_

He was absolutely stupid. Dumb. Thickheaded. Witless. Absolutely the _exact_ **opposite** of high intelligence. He wasn't a_ Ravenclaw_. Or to some, a Gryffindor. He just accepts it, because he is.

What happened to him? He didn't deserve to be called a _**Marauder**_. He wasn't Peter anymore. He wasn't Wormtail anymore. He was a **Death Eater**. Just a **Death Eater**. He isn't human anymore. And he hates it.

_"Stand back!" one figure robed in all black yelled, "Stand back or I slit her neck! Join us!"_

_He remembered struggling, chanting __nononono__ under his breath, while two of __**them**__ held him by the arms. He didn't understand at all, back then. Why would they want him? He was lowly, he wasn't that good at spells, his friends were much better than him. But he had no time to process this as he watched in horror as his mother was being tortured._

_He hated __**Death Eaters**__._

And he still does.

He hates himself most of all, because he was supposed to be a damned Gryffindor; and he was supposed to be _noble_ like the hat sang that one fateful day that changed his miserable and pathetic life. He was supposed to be a _**Marauder**_, damn it! He was supposed to be **tough**! What do those damn **Death Eaters** think they are? They don't even deserve to be regarded as people! His poor heart breaks under the pressure.

He accepts the_ harsh_ blows Sirius shrieks, he accepts the_ cold_ glare Remus sends him, he accepts Harry's _murderous_ hate, he accepts the _disappointment_ James would've directed at him with his thoughtful hazel eyes, simple asking him _why_? He deserves it. He deserves **everything** they give to him, because _honestly_, he doesn't deserve any better.

He is a Gryffindor. He is _**the cub who has never grown**_, but berates himself for _past mistakes_. But in the end, he didn't let himself break. He is **Peter Pettigrew**, _hear him roar_.

_{I'm sorry.}_

* * *

**Ginny Weasely** _{can't be tamed}_

She couldn't help herself. She just becomes _really_ starstruck and _really_ shy when she's in a room with _oh my merlin it's actually him my childhood freaking hero_, Harry Potter. It became instinct on her part to hurriedly flee when both of them were in close vicinity.

And yes, she has an extreme _adulterated_ dislike for it.

She was nervous. When she found a diary, she lunged for it with hunger in her_fierce_ brown eyes, she needed some comfort. She was a little freaked out that the diary _could actually respond_, but she forgot about that. She had her comfort, and that was fine by her.

She just forgot.

Eventually she just forgot about the name 'Harry Potter' and then he was just _Harry_ and she discovered that when he wasn't busy saving the world from You-Know-Who; he was just a nice and _normal_ guy who's a _**great **_leader. They became friends (_good, really!_), but she couldn't say she forgot about the immense and _incoherent_ fluttering in her stomach when they met.

Then, she tasted freedom. And she _absolutely __loved _it.

Dumbledore's Army was what she proudly christened theirlittle group of rebels, everyone loved it and she burst in satisfactory mirth when she realized she was coming out of her shell _with Harry in the room_. It felt like her home within a home within another home. She learned, she fought, and she succeeded. It was where her mother wouldn't treat her like some damn porcelain doll and she was extremely glad for that.

_Being controlled_; shehated it completely.

She had tofight (_she knew how to_), she had tobe there (_who cares about danger, anyway?_), she had to befree (_you can't lock me up_). She just can't stay safe and just be all _oh well at least i'm fine;_ not when her friends and family are fighting and have _a chance of dying_ and she won't. She had to find a way. She had to fight. She can't be locked up. She can't be tamed. And she won't be, if there's _**anything **_she can say about it.

She is a _Gryffindor_. She is the _fierce lioness _with the _uncontrollable mane of pure scarlet_. She is Ginny Weasely, _hear her roar_.

_{Who's the little girl now, hmm?}_

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**A/N: Ugh! I hate Fanfiction! Sorry, needed to vent that out. But I really hate what they're doing with the site. I really, really do. But, in other news, I'm back! For a short while, anyway. I don't even know if I can post something tomorrow. (Particularly; DYDA!) But, I'll try. Also, please ignore all the fonts. I wrote this a year ago (does anybody remember Erasing Names? Yes. Same period.) and I swear I was sugar-high at the time.**_  
_

**But yes. I hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading!**


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